Chapter 8 Miller - Baggage with a side of pasta #3
I’ve always considered myself a pretty open minded guy, but after witnessing pregnancy and childbirth and now raising a daughter of my own, I’m three hundred percent in it for a woman’s right to her own Goddamn body.
Relief floods through me when I see Gwen nod her head in understanding and agreement. Not that I thought she wouldn’t, it just feels nice to know she gets it.
“And adoption?” she asks.
“And that’s where my choice came into play.
Sara wanted to give birth, but she did not want to be a mother.
She never lied about it or kept it a secret.
She didn’t lay it out for me like some big ultimatum either.
I was signing up to raise this unborn baby on my own, or I was signing the papers alongside Sara to relinquish my rights. ”
“When did you decide to keep her?”
“Oh, it was never a question for me. Sure, I was scared out of my fucking mind. Yeah, I thought I was probably going to fail in almost every way possible. But I knew I loved her from the second I found out she existed. Sara and I stopped being…involved with each other pretty much as soon as we found out she was pregnant, but we stayed friendly. I don’t say this to be a dick, but it was never going to be this big love story for us, baby or not.
So it wasn’t a hard transition for us. No giant break up.
I went to every doctor’s appointment, and she sent me videos of her bump when Penelope was kicking. I got a lot of updates from her.”
“You can stop me at any time but, were you there? For the birth?”
I finally start to smile again. This is a story I’ll never get sick of telling.
“Yep. Best fucking day of my life. Sara was a champ. The labor was long, and I’m pretty sure her epidural wore off by the time they had her start pushing.
The TV in the room for some reason had the same movie playing on a fucking loop.
But…Gwen, when I heard Penelope cry for the first time? ”
I get lost in the memory for a minute, and Gwen’s hand reaching for mine brings me back. There’s a lot of physical affection going on lately, and I’m not used to it, but I’m not mad about it either.
“When I heard her cry,” I start again. “I swear to God, for the first time in my freshly seventeen years of life, I knew it was all worth it.”
Gwen starts tracing the veins on the top of my hand lightly with her finger, and I feel that touch shoot straight up my arm.
“The way you describe it…it sounds like the most beautiful thing in the world. It doesn’t feel real,” she says more to herself, than to me.
Her tracing stops, and she looks up at me. “How could she walk away from that?”
I thread my fingers through hers, needing to connect with her, so hopefully she feels as much as she hears me when I explain this next part.
“It wasn’t her time. It might never be her time.
Not everyone was born to be a mom or a dad.
We see men walk away from children they father every single day with no repercussions.
Some jump in and out of kids’ lives at their leisure with no remorse.
And society is, for the most part, fine with it.
It’d be wrong to villainize a woman for the same.
Sara made her choice. She was honest and upfront.
I have nothing but respect for her. She gave me Penelope. ”
I let Gwen sit with that. She doesn’t have to agree with it right away either.
I get it. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to get to this headspace.
I spent a lot of late nights resentful of Sara.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask her how and why, but it wouldn’t have changed her mind, and it would have done more harm than good. I regret the anger enough.
Gwen surprises me when she finally responds.
“Do I think she’s missing out on two of the coolest people I know?
Yes. Do I understand her decision? Honestly, not entirely.
Not really even a little bit. But do I respect her for the sheer strength she possesses and her ability to choose herself? Yeah. Hell yeah.”
I blow out a breath. “Thank you.”
“But can she…change her mind? Has she ever reached out?”
I shake my head. “No, and I don’t think we’ll ever hear from her.
She signed off on her parental rights twenty-four hours after giving birth.
Legally, it’s like she never existed to Penelope, it’s only my name on the birth certificate.
Personally, we agreed Penelope is entitled to know who Sara is if she asks when appropriate.
I have her family health history if it’s ever needed.
I’ve tried to cover all the bases to do right by both of them. It’s not perfect but—”
“Miller, that’s more than anyone could ever even think of, are you kidding? Especially with you being so young. You act like you’re not moving mountains every day for that little girl.”
“Nah.” I wave her off and instantly regret letting go just to brush off one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me like a fucking idiot. “I’m just being her dad.”
She scrunches her nose, and I love watching her freckles dance across the bridge of it. She shakes her head, and I clock every wave of those pretty curls. She’s cute as fuck when she’s annoyed with me. “I wish you could see yourself, Miller Caswell.”
She’s more than cute when she uses my full name like that. I don’t stand a chance keeping up with a real woman like this.
It’s at this very moment I decide I’m gonna try like hell to from here on out anyway. I lean across the island, being sure to not invade her space, but shortening the gap.
“I like my view just fine over here, Gwendolyn Bozelli.”